


Midnight Rendezvous

by 0_yngve



Series: Aching Bones, Aching Hearts [5]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, Opowiadania Muminków | Die Mumins | The Moomins (Stop Motion 1977), 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Almost Kiss, Autistic Character, Autistic Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Chronic Pain, Confessions, Disability, Disabled Character, Disabled Snusmumriken | Snufkin, First Kiss, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Partial Nudity, Physical Disability, Sharing a Bed, Swimming, Tenderness, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Snusmumriken | Snufkin, binding, gratuitous use of ellipses and em dashes, here we are folx, hurt/comfort elements, internalized ableism, not sexual though, tags updated 4/27
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0_yngve/pseuds/0_yngve
Summary: Snufkin was never comfortable in a bed. Too closed in, too confined. His nature was to be free and wander, not rest cooped up on a fluffy mattress, drowning in blankets and pillows. It’s not the Mumrik way. It’s no wonder, really, that lying down in one such bed sent a wave of pain crashing all down his spine. Or how when that passed, the softness of the mattress made his hip ache immensely, forbidding him from drifting off. His body’s way of keeping him a vagabond, sleeping on a mat upon the ground.Yes, that must be why lying down hurt so much.But here he was, lying in Moomintroll’s bed, tucked under the covers.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Series: Aching Bones, Aching Hearts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688545
Comments: 23
Kudos: 150





	1. In Which an Impromptu Sleepover Is Had

**Author's Note:**

> Oof, this one’s been in progress for weeks now. I just kept chipping away at it little by little and then last night I wrote 1,000 words so I guess that’s where I’m at. 

Snufkin was never comfortable in a bed. Too closed in, too confined. His nature was to be free and wander, not rest cooped up on a fluffy mattress, drowning in blankets and pillows. It’s not the Mumrik way. It’s no wonder, really, that lying down in one such bed sent a wave of pain crashing all down his spine. Or how when that passed, the softness of the mattress made his hip ache immensely, forbidding him from drifting off. His body’s way of keeping him a vagabond, sleeping on a mat upon the ground. 

Yes, that must be why lying down hurt so much. 

But here he was, lying in Moomintroll’s bed, tucked under the covers. Snufkin had snuck in that night. He hadn’t known why; he just wanted to see his friend. He went on a hike with him earlier, though. Why did he feel the urge to rendezvous again? 

Best to set that aside, Snufkin thought. After all, there were more pressing issues. Like how he was fighting to not wince as he felt his leg was being ripped away from his hip. 

Moomintroll sat up. “I’m going to get a glass of water. Do you want one?” 

Snufkin shook his head despite the dryness in his mouth. 

“Oh, can you close the window?” Moomintroll asked. “Don’t want Little My barging in.” 

Oh dear, that wasn’t possible at the moment. Though it was far from the high end of Snufkin’s pain scale, and he could tolerate it well, his hip felt too separated from his leg and he didn’t want to risk falling. 

“No, sorry,” was Snufkin’s quiet response. 

“What?” Moomintroll furrowed his brows. “Do you want her to spy?” He had a suspicious look on his face, like he thought this was some bizzare joke. His expression fell, however, as he saw Snufkin’s own: one serious, embarrassed, guilty. 

“I can’t quite move at the moment.” Snufkin managed to force the words out of his throat. What a fate to befall a Mumrik! — that a creature whose nature craved travel could not even move from where he lay. 

Snufkin knew Moomintroll wasn’t confused by his pain anymore. Though Snufkin didn’t think he would ever truly be able to comprehend, he knew the troll could understand the basics and not fret or stumble over himself or get frustrated. 

“Where does it hurt?” 

Oh, the answer to that question was much too long. It burned in his arms. It pulled in his hip. It twisted in his foot. A persistent throbbing pain pounded behind his eye. A stabbing tore through his back from binding too long the other day. He felt as if any movement too strong would make him vomit. And it hurt to be stuck and it hurt worse to know that Moomintroll was there with him, seeing his vulnerability. And Snufkin’s fear of what he may do tonight hurt the most. 

“My right hip,” Snufkin forced out. 

Snufkin couldn’t see the slow, nervous motion. He could only feel his breath catch in his throat as Moomintroll’s paw so, so gently rested on Snufkin’s aching hip. 

The sensation was electric. Barely-there yet overpowering. Scalding and freezing. Snufkin felt the softness of his fur through his clothes. In a way, it was grounding — having such a stir about Moomintroll’s surface level touch drew Snufkin’s mind away from the bone-deep pain in his joints. 

So there Snufkin lied, sharing the too-soft bed with Moomintroll, unable to move but unsure if he would want to. And all the while, the troll’s touch burned into his skin. Snufkin tried to look everywhere but his friend’s eyes, but once he locked eye contact he couldn’t pull himself away. Moomintroll was a mesmerizing fire Snufkin could gaze at for hours, but he must be wary to not let his guard down lest he be swallowed up. 

Moomintroll’s hesitant voice broke his train of thought. “Is this okay?” His friend’s words were quiet, like if he were too loud he would worsen the pain. 

Just as quiet, Snufkin hummed a sound that he hoped was reassuring. 

A long silence fell between the two of them. Snufkin listened to Moomintroll’s breathing. Focusing on that was much easier than thinking about his paws. He didn’t want to think about how he wished Moomintroll would hold him properly and press his snout to Snufkin’s own.

Moomintroll was the first to speak: “Does this happen a lot?” 

Snufkin opened his mouth to deny it, but closed it again. Did this happen a lot? He couldn’t remember when the pain started happening, but when it did, it was a rare occurrence, but so new and scary that once every few months was too much. As the months and years wore on, it happened more and more — so much that Snufkin rarely felt more than annoyance and boredom through the episodes. He just made his way out of his tent in whatever misshapen way he could as soon as he woke and lit a fire for a few minutes before dousing it with the pail of water he kept inside his tent for just these occasions. He’d then hunker down in his tent and be careful to not make a sound; best to let everyone believe he simply rose early and went on a hike. 

How often did Snufkin do that? Hide away from everyone and hope the rumbling of his stomach was quiet enough that no-one would realize where he was? Was it every week? Every three days? Was that a lot? Snufkin couldn’t tell anymore. The pain had snuck up on him when he was too young to recognize it as unusual. 

“I suppose it does.” 

Moomintroll’s face was strained in the way it looked when he was trying to remain stoic. The fluffy creature would stop and sit down when a sore muscle hit; Snufkin didn’t think he could understand this built-up acquisition to pain — not that it hurt any less but that it ceased to faze him in the same way. During his first winter trip away from Moominvalley, the year after the comet came, Snufkin felt a terrible pulling and tearing sensation in the arch of his foot. Within an hour, the appendage was so swollen, he couldn’t get it out of his boot, forcing him to cut the old leather away. His entire foot was purple and black. Certainly he was concerned, but perhaps he more so dreaded having to buy new boots than not having full use of one of his feet. Snufkin trudged along for another two days with his shirt wrapped around his injured foot before purchasing new shoes and soaking in a hot spring to heal what Snufkin now assumed was a torn ligament. Snufkin knew Moomintroll sprained his ankle once. He knew he felt sick at the sight of blood. He knew his muscles were comically inflexible, leaving him unable to touch his toes. Was any of that the same? Could anything Snufkin said get Moomintroll to understand what he experienced without terrifying him? 

Could Snufkin say anything, with those ocean-blue eyes boring into him? 

“For how long?” 

“It depends,” Snufkin said, not wanting to give away the truth — not wanting to admit that he would go ten hours with no food in reach, and only enough water for four of them. That made it sound miserable. It turned Snufkin's Tuesdays into Moomintroll’s horrors. It made it real and it made it scary. 

Moomintroll, thankfully, broke their eye contact first. “Tell me if I’m hurting you. I just thought — I remember you saying that pressure helped.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, it does,” Snufkin said, intelligently. 

“It hurts?” Moomintroll pulled his paw away like he burned it on the stove. 

“No!” 

Too loud. 

“I mean — pressure helps.”

“Oh.” 

The paw came back. 

The eyes did not. 

Snufkin didn’t like how that made him feel. 

Another long silence passed between the two of them. 

“Moomintroll?” 

The eyes were back again, bigger and brighter than ever. “Yes?” 

Snufkin hadn’t thought that far. “I just wanted to say your name.” His face burned almost as much as his hip did. 

“Oh.” 

The paw squeezed tighter. 

“Snufkin?” 

“Yes?” 

“I just wanted to say your name too.” 

Snufkin looked down, certain Moomintroll could see his blush even without night-eyes. How could one creature be so wonderful? He chanced a look up at the troll again. The pale pink of his nose, the softness of his fur, the bright blue of his eyes… 

The words spilled out of him: 

“I think I’d very much like to kiss you right now.”

Moomintroll looked like he was choking. 

“You can’t!”

Snufkin yelped at the sudden vice-lock on his hip. The grip disappeared after a moment, the paw with it, and Snufkin tried to not mourn its loss while awkwardly massaging the joint himself. 

Of course Moomintroll wouldn’t want to touch him right now. Why should he, when he’d gone and ruined their friendship? Moomintroll touched him under the guise of being a helpful friend, nothing more, and Snufkin practically manipulated him into staying in such an intimate position! Now what was Snufkin going to do? He couldn’t escape, his flare-up still trapping him in bed. How was he going to salvage whatever relationship he could have left with the troll? 

He stammered terribly. “Oh, uh — nevermind. Just, um, just forget I said anything. It’s late, anyway. We should just — ” 

“No!” 

Oh, would Moomintroll please stop bursting in at such high volumes? It made it very difficult for Snufkin to figure out how to backpedal such a shameless and presumptuous declaration as the one he just made. Could he play it off as a joke? Maybe if —

The paw that held Snufkin’s hip now cupped his face so delicately. Snufkin tried very hard to not embarrass himself any further by leaning into the contact. 

Moomintroll took a deep breath. “Snufkin, I’d like to kiss you too. A lot! Very much so, in fact. And I have been for a while, actually. But not like this!” 

What? 

Moomintroll’s face was beet red underneath his fur. “It was supposed to be nice! I had everything planned! I was going to take you on a late night swim in the cove, so we’d be by the ocean, and the stars would be out and we would look at them and you’d tell me stories about all the different constellations and point them out to me even though I can never see them…” 

Oh. 

_ Oh.  _

“… And we’d hold paws and I’d spin my tail with yours and tell you how lovely you look and — oh, everything’s ruined now!” 

Snufkin’s mind was reeling. Moomintroll liked him. He liked him the way Snufkin liked Moomintroll. Maybe he even loved him. And he had planned a whole night out to confess to him, with the ocean and the stars: the two things Snufkin loved most in the world. (Well, two of the three.) Simply remarkable, this Moomintroll. Snufkin had no doubt that whatever words he said were painstakingly drafted and rehearsed, not realizing that he could stumble over and over again and be all the more charming for it. How Snufkin wanted to throw his arms around him and kiss him silly! 

“What’s stopping you from saying all those things now?”

Moomintroll almost looked sad. “I don’t want to do it now. Or — I want to, very much! — but I don’t think that would be fair. To you.” 

“Moomintroll, it’s no less special to me what you say at the cove under the stars or here in your bedroom.” 

Moomintroll shook his head. “No, that’s not it.” 

“Then what is it?” 

A sigh. “I don’t want to have such a big moment in a night where you can’t leave if you need to.” 

Oh, Moomintroll… 

So kind, so thoughtful. Remarkable. Snufkin wanted to kiss him even more. 

But — he was right. Snufkin didn’t know how he would react to Moomintroll’s sweet words and sweeter kisses; it might be all too much for him. And if it was, Snufkin needed to be able to excuse himself and decompress. But stuck as he was in a bed that wasn’t his own, that meant Moomintroll having to sleep in the guest room for the night while Snufkin agonized beside the warm spot left behind in the too-empty bed. 

That wouldn’t be fair to either of them. 

Snufkin let out a breath and smiled softly. “The cove won’t be going anywhere. You can tell me when the time is right.” 

The troll’s eyes softened. “I will.” 

They lied together, in the too-small bed, limbs tangled together and Snufkin’s head tucked under Moomintroll’s chin. 

So many things could be said. They all hung in the warm night air, ready to be plucked out and spoken. But they would all have to wait one more day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really keep not letting them kiss, huh? Maybe I’ll write a chapter two or follow-up of their date proper. No guarantees, of course. 


	2. In Which Great Big Feelings Are Expressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...didn't think I would actually write this. But I guess with queerantine going on all of my energy has to go somewhere.

Snufkin loved swimming. He loved the feeling of the cool water against his skin. He loved how he could float like a jellyfish, winding up where-ever the currents took him. And he loved how the water took all the weight off his aching bones, making him freer from pain than he ever could be on land. 

But swimming wasn’t exactly why Snufkin was so excited for to-night. 

At the ground of Moominhouse, Snufkin put his paw to his lips and let out a familiar pattern of whistles. 

Snufkin waited a few moments before he saw the highest window fly open. A round figure crawled through with some difficulty and made its way down the rope ladder. Snufkin felt a treacle smile spread across his face. 

When Moomintroll was on solid ground, they shared a look. They both knew what was going to happen to-night. Their words would be so big but somehow fit in the soft glances and small smiles between them. 

Neither dared speak them first. 

In a way, they were all the lovelier for being left unsaid. But, oh, how Snufkin wanted to hear them said. And how dearly he wanted to say them! 

The two didn’t speak on their way to the cove. Moomintroll could feel a nervous energy around them. 

Moomintroll almost asked if Snufkin was feeling any better than he had last night. It wasn’t far to the cove, but it was still about a mile’s walk. He was about to speak up, but no. Snufkin, though much more open with Moomintroll about his pain than he was a few years ago, was still very private about it and disliked speaking of it; if there was a problem big enough, he would say so. In the meantime, Moomintroll was to assume things were alright. 

Having rounded one final corner of cliffs, they arrived at the cove. The stars were reflected in the calm waters of the cove and in Moomintroll’s expectant eyes. Sea foam glistened on the low crests of the waves. Shining shells and glass littered the grainy sand. Dark rocky cliffs surrounded the alcove, granting privacy. The clear night sky shone with hundreds of thousands of stars, each looking like holes in the weave of black velvet. 

It was perfect. 

Snufkin turned around and looked over his shoulder: a silent request for help. A few months ago, the mumrik had begun having trouble with fine movements and buttons were the first thing that he gave up on. Moomintroll didn’t know why he kept using them instead of fastening it with a safety pin like Emma the theatre-rat or the Muddler. What Moomintroll did know, however, is that as chaste as unbuttoning a coat was, it still made his fingertips tingle with the small domestic intimacy. 

The coat unbuttoned, Moomintroll turned around to give his friend — friend? — privacy. 

Snufkin pulled the rest of his clothes off and left them in a pile on a nearby stone, leaving him in his binder and drawers. He crept into the still waters of the cove before alerting Moomintroll that it was decent to turn round and join him. 

The water was cold — a welcome contrast to the warm summer night. Snufkin leaned back and floated on the surface, looking up at the stars. In moments like this, the world felt so wonderfully, terribly big and he felt so wonderfully, terribly small. He was so lucky to exist on this earth at all, and that miniscule chance granted him so much opportunity. His microscopic importance in the universe meant he was free to do anything, go anywhere… 

… be with anyone. 

Moomintroll swam out beside him, standing on the sandbank. He watched Snufkin, who looked deep in thought. Moomintroll couldn’t see much; he didn’t have night-eyes like the mumrik. But he could make out Snufkin’s half-submerged silhouette, his hair plastered to his forehead and his perfect nose — large for mumrik or mymble standards but so tiny to Moomintroll. How Moomintroll wished to kiss that snout! 

But no, it would hardly be chivalrous to kiss before confessing, and it would hardly be appropriate to confess while swimming. 

To rid his mind of these thoughts, Moomintroll splashed Snufkin in the face. 

Snufkin bolted upright at the splash. He tried to stand on the sandbank as Moomintroll did, but found himself too short, needing to stand on his tiptoes to keep his chin above water. Only disgruntled for a moment at his, Snufkin narrowed his eyes. 

Moomintroll realized his grave error. 

Snufkin, though he tried to pretend he was above it all, was terribly competitive. 

Snufkin shoved a massive wave of water in Moomintroll’s face. The troll sputtered and tried to retaliate, but Snufkin was merciless, bombarding the troll again and again, all the while with a massive grin on his face. 

Their battle went on for some time, leaving them breathless and giddy and so, so close. They were less than a foot apart. Moomintroll could feel the widest part of his belly brush against Snufkin’s exposed skin. Even under the ocean water, he was so warm. 

Moomintroll felt himself lean in closer to Snufkin, just a few inches from the other’s snout, about to close the gap and —

_ Splash! _ Moomintroll’s face was splattered with water. 

Moomintroll scoffed and smiled, splashing Snufkin back. He wanted to be disappointed about the moment between them being gone, but all he could think about was how musical Snufkin’s laughter was. 

Moomintroll got out of the water first, and extended his paw to help Snufkin. There was a slight hesitation in accepting the aid, which Moomintroll decided against commenting upon. Moomintroll found the sand very interesting as he waited for Snufkin to get dressed again. 

Snufkin tried to get dressed, with a dry pair of drawers from his coat pocket and his trousers on, but his binder, now wet, was giving him a great deal of trouble. 

“Moomintroll?” Snufkin’s face was bright red. 

Moomintroll turned around, expecting Snufkin to be dressed, which was very much not the case. Snufkin’s binder was bunched up under his shoulder-blades, one arm sticking straight up and the other trapped under the strap. Moomintroll couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. Very much  _ not _ looking at the line of auburn fur that trailed up the mumrik’s spine, Moomintroll padded over and helped peel off the binder before turning around and closing his eyes. 

Snufkin felt his blush all over his face and up to the tips of his ears. He pulled on the rest of his clothes — his spare drawers and discarded shirt and trousers — taking care to pull the front of his shirt loose. He debated putting his coat on, but decided against it; he used it to dry off and the sensation of wet wool was dreadful. 

“You can turn around now.” 

Moomintroll noticed the difference — of course he did. He flushed at Snufkin’s state of undress. The mumrik was only seen without his coat in the hottest of heat-waves, and when he did shed it he had never forgone his bindings. Snufkin must have trusted him deeply to let Moomintroll see him like this. And how  _ handsome _ he was! Delightfully small and adorable. His long sleeves were pushed up to show the patchy fur on his forearms. The ratty hem of his trousers showed the dense, wiry fur on his feet, one of which was wrapped in still-wet calico. Without his large coat, Moomintroll could see how thin he was — that wouldn’t do. He made a mental note to feed the mumrik more. A moomin’s love must always be well-fed and delightfully round. 

They sat down on the banks of the cove. The water lapped at Snufkin’s feet. 

They watched the stars together. 

After a few minutes — three or thirty — Snufkin dared to brush his pinkie finger against Moomintroll’s. Moomintroll curled his own pinkie around Snufkin’s and tried not to show the face-splitting grin he felt blossoming on his face. 

“Cassiopeia!” Snufkin sputtered out. 

Moomintroll whipped his head to Snufkin at the sudden exclamation. 

Snufkin pointed vaguely upwards. “It’s a constellation.” 

Moomintroll nodded, still a few steps behind. 

“Would you like to hear about it?” 

Moomintroll smiled. He always loved Snufkin’s stories. 

“In ancient Greece, there was a queen named Cassiopeia. Now, she had twelve children, and — ” 

“Twelve!” Moomintroll exclaimed. “Was she a mymble?” 

“No, she was a Cassiopeia.” 

“What does that mean?” 

Snufkin shrugged. “What does any name?” 

Moomintroll hummed, still not getting it. Snufkin continued. 

“She had twelve children, six sons and six daughters. And like many mothers, she boasted about them.” 

“Mamma always does that with me. It’s very embarrassing.” 

“It’s sweet. Now don’t interrupt.” 

Moomintroll stayed quiet. 

“Cassiopeia loved boasting about her children and how many of them there were. But one time, she took it too far: she claimed that she was greater than Leto, mother of the gods Artemis and Apollo, because Leto only had two children and she had twelve. 

“Now, Artemis and Apollo were very devoted to their mother, and very protective. They didn’t take kindly to Cassiopeia’s words. So, in the dark of the night, they snuck into her palace and killed all her children, so instead of twelve children she would have none.” 

Moomintroll gasped. “That’s horrible!” 

Snufkin ignored him. “Apollo shot the six princes with his arrows as hot as the sun, and Artemis shot the six princesses with her arrows as gentle as the moon.

“In the morning, Cassiopeia discovered all her children dead in their beds, and wept. She wept and wept and wept. Apollo and Artemis took pity on her, and asked their father Zeus to turn the queen into stone so that she could feel no more grief. Zeus did so, and hung her stone body in the sky. Those who look closely can see the queen sitting on her throne, mourning the loss of her children.” 

“Rather morbid,” Moomintroll grumbled. 

“Many stories are.” 

Moomintroll looked back up at the sky. He squinted. 

“You don’t see it, do you?” 

“No, not at all” 

Snufkin chuckled, his face lowered to hide his smile. He took their touching paws and guided them up to point the troll’s finger to the stars. Snufkin traced a “W” shape in the sky, perhaps slower than necessary. 

Moomintroll was far too enamoured with their touch to spare any thoughts for the stars. 

“Do you see it now?” 

“Oh — oh, yeah. Yes.” 

A lie, Snufkin knew. And Moomintroll knew he knew it was a lie. And Snufkin knew that. But he also knew when to accept defeat. Snufkin lowered their paws. Moomintroll, in a show of boldness, intertwined their fingers. Snufkin had to try very hard not to flex his paw and push out his claws. He kept his eyes very intently on the stars above them, watching for nothing in particular. His face was warm. 

Moomintroll watched Snufkin. He really was beautiful in the night sky. How desperately he wished for night-eyes! He wanted to see Snufkin in vivid color, all warm and bright like a still summer day — to see his honey-brown eyes and his golden skin. He wanted to see if Snufkin was blushing as furiously as Moomintroll was. 

Snufkin gave Moomintroll’s paw a light squeeze, which the troll returned. Snufkin couldn’t help but smile at that. He leaned his head on Moomintroll’s sloped shoulder, his hat left to his side as his hair dried. 

If Snufkin moved his ear just a few inches lower, he would be able to hear the troll’s heartbeat. Was it as quick as Snufkin’s own? 

His ears perked up at the warm pressure on the top of his head: Moomintroll rested his snout upon him. Oh, that remarkable troll. 

“Thank you,” Snufkin murmured. 

“What for?” 

“Just… thank you.” 

Snufkin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could smell the salt of the ocean, the flowers of summer, and the indiscernible warm scent of  _ Moomintroll _ : clean laundry and fresh bread and something impossible to name. 

Moomintroll’s voice was gentle. “Of course.” 

The low tide softly crested and fell. 

“Snufkin?”

Snufkin could feel the vibrations of Moomintroll’s voice on his head. 

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time.” 

Oh, Snufkin knew what was coming. He felt a smile grow on his face. 

“When we met, all those years ago, with the comet, I never expected that we would grow so close. I never could have guessed that you would become my dearest, most treasured friend.

“And over the years, I found myself growing feelings bigger than that. I didn’t know why I missed you so much when you left. I dreaded seeing the leaves fall and the nights come sooner because it meant that I would feel all these feelings too big for ‘friendship’ and I didn’t know what to do with them.” 

Snufkin opened his mouth. 

“Don’t apologize, now,” Moomintroll chided. “I know you have to and what matters most is that you’re safe and happy.”

The mumrik nuzzled into Moomintroll’s fur ruff. 

“But I realized that while, of course I cared for  _ all _ my friends, I cared for you in a different way. Friends don’t want to always hold paws with their friends. They don’t want to look at them in the summer sky. They certainly don’t want to kiss.”

Moomintroll took a deep breath. “I know what I feel for you now. It’s a great big feeling, but it’s easier sharing it.” 

Snufkin sat with Moomintroll’s words. Not a declaration of love outright, but Snufkin knew that Moomintroll was holding back from such a big word for his sake. He also knew that he felt the same great big feelings. He also knew he couldn’t quite say them yet. 

Snufkin closed his eyes, listening to the bubbling of the sea foam. 

“Do you know how many places I’ve visited more than once on my travels? Outside of basic shops on the path through the Lonely Mountains?” Snufkin asked into the night air. 

Moomintroll hummed. “I don’t know. Maybe twenty?” 

Snufkin paused a moment before answering. “One.” 

Moomintroll’s gasp did not go unfelt. 

“I always return here. I keep coming back. And I didn’t know why at first.”

Snufkin exhaled slowly. “I know now.” 

Snufkin lifted his head from Moomintroll’s shoulder, looking him in the eyes. Those marvelous, ocean blue eyes. 

And he leaned in and pressed their snouts together. 

Moomintroll felt fuzzy and warm and numb all at once. Snufkin was kissing him! Snufkin! Kissing him! He never thought it would happen. Moomintroll nuzzled against the mumrik’s tiny snout and flicked his tail over, letting his own lay on top of Snufkin’s. Snufkin curled his tail around Moomintroll’s. 

The fur on Moomintroll’s snout was short and velvety, and tickled against Snufkin’s cheek. He giggled at the sensation before pressing his lips to the tip of the troll’s great big snout. 

Moomintroll’s face turned red all over. Delightful. 

“Does this mean we’re boyfriends now?” 

Snufkin suddenly did not feel so warm and delighted. 

Boyfriends… That was such a big word. Boyfriends were settled down. They always saw each other and were never apart for long. Boyfriends became fiancés and fiancés became husbands and husbands became fathers. Snufkin couldn’t picture himself wanting a life without Moomintroll in it, but he couldn’t picture a life like that either. 

“I…” Snufkin couldn’t get the words out. That life he couldn’t picture was exactly the life Moomintroll wanted: slow and domestic and stationary. He wanted to be boyfriends and go steady and give presents and propose and tie a bow to his tail and have children and grow old all right here in Moominvalley. He would want to build a house around Snufkin and cage him in with lumbar and domesticity. 

Snufkin felt his breathing grow shallow. 

“Snufkin?” 

When had Moomintroll sat down in front of him? When had he put his paws on his shoulders? 

Snufkin shook his head. “I… can’t do that — boyfriends. Someday, I hope, but not now.” 

Snufkin didn’t want to see the look in Moomintroll’s eyes. The disappointment. 

“Okay.” Moomintroll’s voice was so gentle. 

Snufkin dared to look up. 

Moomintroll’s eyes were so soft, so bright. “We don’t have to put a label on it. What matters is that we care for each other.” He smiled. “Not boyfriends, just…  _ something _ .” 

Snufkin nodded. “Something.” 

Moomintroll’s paws slid down to Snufkin’s waist as he pressed a moomin kiss to his forehead. Snufkin couldn’t help but smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did I pick Cassiopeia to be the constellation? First person to guess wins. It's not because of the story. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading !!

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @/smooth-goat for updates on my Homesick Is Snufmin AMV clip


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